Broken Christmas
by gem1n1
Summary: There was no Christmas spirit left in this broken shell of a man.Warning Character Death


A/N: So it's come to my attention that I'm not that big of a fan of Christmas. I probably would be a bigger fan if it came in small doses that I could control when, where, etc. But I can't. Add in the fact 'm keeping up my tradition of being ill at Christmas and I'm not all that perky. So in my slightly melancholy mood this came into my head and wouldn't go away.

XxXxX

He could hear carol singers at the end of the hall and he hoped they wouldn't come for him. He hoped they wouldn't push him down to sit and listen. It was hard enough to drown out their voices even so far away but up close he knew he stood no chance. He was too weak.

There was no Christmas spirit left in this broken shell of a man.

This wasn't how Christmas used to be. Once he would sit around a makeshift tree teaching young Torren to play with new race cars whilst Teyla would watch on smiling away. Those days were magical. Christmas was a foreign holiday to the Athosians but it was something they welcomed whole heartedly right from the start. Anyway of celebrating life with gifts and joy and song and smiles was good and he had found himself pulled back into it all again with a passion he had not displayed since his childhood. Days leading up to the festive celebration they had planned on New Athos he had walked around with a smile that had more strength than the ZPM that powered the city.

There were no smiles now. Not after the Wraith found New Athos. Not after they had blasted it from space. Not after they took away Halling and Jinto and Kanaan and Torren. And Teyla. No more smiles after that.

It was harder to do anything after that. Harder to look at the holiday as anything but what it was, an empty day.

But they picked up and moved on. They carried on as a three man team. They were closer but carried that weight.

Their celebrations had taken on a more Satedan quality after that and it had been welcomed. They would disappear off world, hole up in a dive of a bar and eat and drink until they couldn't see straight. It was different yet the same somehow. Words were said, stories exchanged becoming wilder the more they drank, their mood jovial even though they all knew the fourth chair should not be empty.

But now there were no more hearty meals and warm ales like with Ronon. No more sitting around large tables with loosened belts and loosened tongues. There was none of that not anymore. Not since those crazy assed grey aliens turned up again. The same ones that had almost gotten the better of them on the Daedulas.

Ronon had fought hard, showing no mercy on the ground as he had in the sky. Or so he had been told. He hadn't seen, hadn't been there at his team mate's side, hadn't been there to watch his back as he saved dozens of lives with each one he took.

It had been a good fight, an honourable fight that had claimed the man's life. One the Satedan would have been proud to have. The stories were still being told about his bravery and skill.

And then there had been just the two of them. But even that was short lived.

Now there was no sarcasm, no battle of wits or quick quips about commercialism of holidays. Not now. Not ever. Not since that planet with the fateful Ancient Tech.

McKay had met a great rival in this machine which had tangled him up in codes and numbers until the man was frayed at the edges. But he had loved it. He had fought the ancient system with every ounce of brain matter he'd had but it wasn't enough, not to unlock the data they so desperately needed.

McKay hadn't listened. Hadn't paid any heed to his warnings of no stay away, it will kill you. No, the great McKay had climbed into that pod determined to know everything, to learn in a flash the secrets of the universe and beyond and become greater than even he could imagine.

But he had been right. It was too dangerous. McKay's mind had been lost, swallowed up in the systems need to learn more, to absorb everything it could. And he could do nothing but watch as his friend convulsed over and over inside that tiny clear chamber.

What was left behind was nothing. There had been nothing behind those eyes of the friend he once knew. There was emptiness where there was once spark and wit.

It had been days later when Jeannie had arrived and broken down that the machines were switched off. He had turned off the machines that had kept his friend alive.

Lost without them he had pulled away from the teams leaving Lorne to take the Alpha spot. It had seemed wrong stepping away from the city with strangers around him. So he stayed behind. He stood on the balcony watching team after team leave and come back. Maybe if he had swallowed it down and carried on through the gate he wouldn't be sitting here now decorated with shrapnel.

Even now weeks later the details are vague. He knew the city was attacked by the Rogue Asguard and that they were losing, badly. Without McKay they were no match for their technology. They were looking for something again and nothing they threw at them was even slowing them down. He'd had one of his ideas and took off to find the Ancient stun grenades they had found years before.

There had been so little time he had set it and tossed it not anticipating those horrendous suits would class that as a breach and self destruct. He'd thought he would just be unconscious for a few hours. That he would wake up in the infirmary having stopped the intruders. Instead he woke up on Earth, his body burning in pain, struggling for breath.

He had saved the city but he'd never see her again. His injuries were too severe they said. You'll never fly again they said. You were lucky to survive they said.

This was torture. His friends, his family were gone. There is no way to bring them back. But the city, his city, was still out there just out of his reach. If he concentrated, if he drowned out everything else and listened for that little hum at the back of his mind he could pretend he was still there. Eventually he would open his eyes and he would see the grey white of the hospital walls and the reality would sink in all over again.

Sitting in the old creaky chair watching the snow fall outside the hospital window he heard the doctor's words all over again.

You were lucky to survive but what did he have left to live for.


End file.
